


Love Is Blind

by FruitPunch493



Category: Firebringer - Team StarKid
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23890225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FruitPunch493/pseuds/FruitPunch493
Summary: "You know you're in love with her, right?""Since when?""Since pretty much always. That's why I'm breaking up with you."Pinterest prompt. Claire and Jemilla have been together for what feels like ages. They're good in pretty much every way imaginable... or so they think. After a friends' gathering in their apartment, Claire decides that maybe they're not as good for each other as they thought.
Relationships: Jemilla/Zazzalil (Firebringer)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 23





	1. Alone

Jemilla rushed around the tiny apartment, doing her best to make sure the space was absolutely spotless. Not that it mattered. Her friend group certainly wouldn't mind if her apartment was a little messy, but she couldn't bear to have it any less than 100% presentable. That just wasn't the way she did things.

"Babe!" She called down the tiny hallway as she began wiping the kitchen table down. "Babe, can you grab the food out of the oven!"

No sooner than she had asked, her girlfriend walked into their tiny kitchen and shoved her hands into a pair of oven-mitts. She looked to Jemilla with an amused twinkle in her eyes.

"You know, if you wipe that table anymore, you just might rub right through it," Claire joked, smile coming over her features. She ducked behind the counter just in time to miss Jemilla's eye-roll, and when she came back up she held a steaming casserole dish in her hands.

"This should be the last of it, right?" She slid the casserole dish longways onto the stove top, then reached up to shut the oven off with a beep.

"Yep!" Jemilla called back, now spending her time wiping dust off of the chairs. They hadn't been used since their last gathering and had accumulated a decently thick layer.

"Good thing," Claire began as she joined the other woman in the dining room. "We just ran out of counter space."

There was a knock at the door. "Doubly good," Jemilla agreed with a smile as she tossed the now dirty paper towel into the garbage and answered the door enthusiastically, letting the first arrivals into the apartment.

* * *

It didn't take very long for the majority of the rest of her friends to show up, which meant they could finally start eating. There was only one person missing, which wasn't a surprise to anyone, really.

"We can go ahead and eat, and I guess she'll have to catch up when she gets here," Jemilla had said. No one was particularly opposed to this idea, so they went to fill their plates in small groups.

In the apartment, they had to make do. Once they grabbed their food, it became a free-for-all as to who sat where. There was enough room for a table of four to fit in the dining room, which left the rest of the friends to sit on the couch, loveseat, and the floor in front of the coffee table.

So as not to force any of her guests to be uncomfortable, Jemilla and Claire both took a spot on the loveseat. They leaned forward and placed their glasses on the coffee table and began nibbling at their food. 

No sooner had the dinner truly started and casual conversations began to be had when there was an aggressive knock at the door.

"I've got it!" Emberly, an incredibly tiny, dark-haired woman called out. She walked to the door and looked through the peephole before opening the door and welcoming whoever was outside.

Of course, Jemilla didn't even need to look to know who it was. She was irritated. Why couldn't the hyperactive brunette just be on time? It drove her absolutely crazy. In an attempt to maintain the peace, Claire immediately started chatting with Jemilla.

To be entirely fair, Jemilla's friendship with Zazzalil, if you could even call it that, was one mostly out of obligation. The two belonged to the same circle of friends, but certainly did not get along. That was incredibly obvious to everyone in the room.

The second the two occupied the same space they would butt heads and argue like no one else. Granted, the tension seemed lessened with the emotional buffer their friends provided, but it wasn't much.

In between her current conversation and bites of her food, she would sneak glances toward the kitchen, where Zazzalil was taking entirely too long to grab her food and start socializing.

"Right, babe?" Claire's voice snapped the brunette from staring at the kitchen.

"What? Huh?" she shook her head as if she was being pulled form a trance. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

"I was saying," she repeated, looking toward Ducker, who they had been talking to previous to Zazzalil's arrival, "that I heard they're adding a theology degree to the community college in town."

"Oh, yes!" Now back on track with the conversation. "I heard they're only doing Islam, Judaism, and Christianity for now to see if it gains traction, but if it takes off they might be willing to branch out."

The man looked positively pleased to hear this news. "This pleases The Duck!"

The couple smiled at their quirky friend. While they didn't particularly understand his obsession with The Duck, they certainly supported it because it made him happy and didn't appear to be hurting anyone.

The brunette looked back toward the kitchen just in time to see a certain individual finally walking into the living room. As usual, she had more food on her plate than she would likely be able to eat. Her eyes remained trained on her as she plopped down on the floor in front of the coffee table.

Sensing Jemilla's stares, the shorter woman turned to her as she shoved at least half of a burger into her mouth. "What?"

"Did you really need to take all of that?" Jemilla commented, raising an eyebrow at the smaller woman.

"Uh, yeah?" She spoke through her mouthful of food, causing Jemilla to scrunch her nose in disdain.

"We all know you're not going to eat all of that. What if someone else wanted some of that?"

"There's plenty of food to go around, babe," Claire reassured, placing a hand on Jemilla's shoulder.

"Yeah, there's plenty to go around, babe," Zazzalil quipped, though that was the last of the conversation between the two for now. Jemilla wouldn't let all of her energy be put into one single person when she had so many of her closest friends around her.

Again, conversation continued for a bit before Grunt got everyone's attention, causing the group to take their volume down to a dull roar.

"Oh, let's play Pictionary!" Grunt recommends. "Emberly and I brought it with us."

There were many agreements from around the room.

"So, how are we gonna do this?" Claire asked, looking around the room. "Do we want to count off into teams of two?"

Again, many hums and vocalizations of agreement from around the room, and so that's exactly what they did.

Jemilla mentally noted each of the teams as they counted off.

Team one was made up of Emberly, Ducker, Claire, Keeri, and Grunt. This meant team two consisted of herself, Smelly-Balls, Tiblyn, Schwoopsie, Chorn, and...

She had to stop herself from groaning aloud. Of course she and Zazzalil had ended up on the same team. Instead of the groan she kept locked in her throat, she sighed exasperatedly and urged her group to huddle. In her opinion, a game plan was much needed.

Unfortunately for her, the only people who took her idea of a game plan seriously were Tiblyn and Chorn, though Chorn likely wasn't going to be much help as she really only said "chorn".

Within a matter of minutes, Jemilla's team had been determined to go first and Zazzalil opted to be the first person to draw. She stepped up to the whiteboard they opted to use so that everyone could have a better view of what was being drawn.

"Alright, here we go, I guess." She pulled a card off the top of the deck on the coffee table and took a minute to look at it. Her expression did not look promising to her friends. "Alright, fuck, um, here we go." In one fluid motion she flipped the hourglass over and began drawing with what appeared to be no sense of purpose.

"Uh, a penguin!" Jemilla called out.

"Chorn!" Chorn yelled.

"A big dick," Smelly-Balls said confidently, nodding enthusiastically as he spoke.

Still, Zazzalil kept drawing. The answers went on like this for the full two minutes that the timer drained until the other team, who had been watching the timer, shouted that their turn was over.

"Come on guys, seriously?" Zazzalil shrugged and gestured to the board. "It's an airplane."

"Really, you call that an airplane?" Jemilla asked, staring at the drawing as she tilted her head in every which direction to try and see it.

"Fuck you!" The small brunette looked like she wanted to say something further, but she was stopped by Claire, once again stepping in to hopefully get the arguing under control.

"Babe, please," Claire pleaded, looking to her significant other. "It's just a game, let it go."

Begrudgingly she did just that as the second team began their turn. Through the yelling, she shot a glare in Zazzalil's direction. Her eyebrows furrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest as she slumped backwards in her chair. She couldn't wait for Zazzalil to leave and be out of her hair.

* * *

"God, Zazzalil is so... aggravating," Jemilla growled to Claire as she vigorously scrubbed the dishes. She was probably using more force than was necessary, but she was angry and cleaning was the best way to release her frustrations. Everyone else had left by this point, so she felt it was a good time to do exactly that.

"I know, dear." Claire was walking around the table, taking all of the dirty dishes that were left behind and bringing them to the sink for her girlfriend to wash. 

"Just who does she think she is?"

"I don't know, dear." Another short answer that Jemilla was too angry to understand the tone.

"Just... why does she feel the need to actually come? She knows I can't stand her."

"Are you going to talk about her all night?" The question was asked in a calm and collected manner, but Jemilla could feel the frustration behind it.

"No, no." Jemilla trailed off into nothing as she pondered the question. "I'm sorry, I won't."

The reassurance did nothing to satisfy Claire, as she merely hummed and began to dry and put away the already clean dishes.

The rest of the process continued in silence. Usually their silences were comfortable, as they would simply enjoy each other's company. This, however, was different. Jemilla could feel it in the air.

Claire put the last dish away in the cabinet as Jemilla rinsed out the sink.

"Jemilla, we need to talk." The statement came out of nowhere and instantly sent a feeling of dread through Jemilla. Despite this, she tried to act as natural as possible, hoping to mask her unease by continuing to scrub an already spotless sink.

"What about?" 

There was a thoroughly uncomfortable silence as Jemilla shut the water off and rested her hands on the edge of the counter-top, still refusing to turn around. She could tell that Claire was hesitant to speak, and in a very un-Claire-like fashion, appeared almost afraid to voice her concerns. All this did was worry Jemilla more.

"You don't love me."

Jemilla quickly spun on her heel, hoping to see some sort of a trace that Claire was uncertain of what she was saying. Upon studying her face for a few seconds, she noted the uncharacteristic soft smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She had had time to come to this conclusion and was thoroughly convinced of it.

"What are you talking about? Of course I d-" She was cut off by a gentle finger that pressed against her lips.

"Hush," Claire tenderly spoke, that same smile still on her face. "Don't you see? It's not me, it's Zazzalil."

The taller brunette reached up and grabbed her girlfriend's hand between her own. "What do you mean?"

Claire laughed humorlessly, a stark contrast from her usually overly enthusiastic laugh. "You know you're in love with her, right?"

Jemilla's brain came screeching to a halt. Her? In love with Zazzalil? Yeah, right. The spunky brunette was entirely too much to handle, and downright obnoxious to boot. She had the incessant need to show Jemilla up at absolutely everything they had ever done, and ever will do. That snarky smile that would pull at her lips and equally cocky raise of her eyebrows was enough to send Jemilla into a rage. More often than not, she was filled with the overwhelming desire to punch that look right off her face. Her brown eyes had a fiery twinkle to them that drove her crazy.

"Since when?" she asked sarcastically through a few chuckles of disbelief. The chuckles were an inappropriate reaction, but she was at a loss as to what to say or do. 

"Since pretty much always." Claire lifted Jemilla's hands to her own face and kissed both plams slowly, eyes focusing on the woman's face, taking in every detail as if it was the last chance she would get to be able to do so. "That's why I'm breaking up with you."

Jemilla's mouth opened and closed like a fish, looking for the right words to say. When none came, Claire slowly lowered her hands and began walking toward their bedroom. The lanky brunette was not far behind.

"What do you mean you're breaking up with me?"

Of course, she knew exactly what she had meant, but she was hoping that this was all just a miscommunication. Hell, she would probably even be relieved, albeit so angry that "pissed off" would not even begin to be able to describe her fury, if this was all just some elaborate joke.

"I mean," she began as she pulled a small suitcase down from the top of her closet and threw it on the bed, "that I can't stay here."

"Where will you go?"

"I'm calling Clark and sleeping on his couch tonight." Calm and collected, Claire kept shooting her girlfriend what could only be interpreted as reassuring looks, but these did nothing to soothe her.

The dirty-blonde began moving about the tiny room, throwing a few sets of clothes into the bag before making her way past Jemilla and into the bathroom. She could only watch, mouth agape as she re-emerged with an armful of toiletries.

This was really happening, and she still couldn't wrap her head around it.

"Please don't leave. I don't want you to leave me." It was the only thing she could think to say in the moment, though she had hopes she could stop her voice from cracking. The reality of the situation was finally hitting her and tears were starting to gather in her eyes.

"I have to." A matter-of-fact statement. "I want to see you happy, and you can't be happy if we're together."

"But you do make me happy." Tears were starting to slide down her face. "I love you, not Zazzalil!"

"No, I don't," Claire spoke as she began grabbing the gathered belongings and neatly placing them in the suitcase. "I thought if I loved you enough, it wouldn't matter that you loved her instead." She turned to Jemilla again as she placed the luggage on its wheels and deployed the handle. "I was wrong, and I shouldn't have let this go on for so long."

She stepped forward and cupped Jemilla's cheek in her palm. "You know I will always love you, but this is what's best for both of us." A lingering kiss on her forehead, and then Claire pulled back.

With her luggage now in hand, she made her way to the front door, Jemilla in tow. "I'll be back soon to get my things."

And just like that she was gone.

As Claire left the apartment--left her--Jemilla couldn't help but sit on the ground in front of the door and sob.

When she awoke next to Claire this morning, everything had been perfect. Sure, they had had their problems, but they were good. They were great.

Or so she had thought.

Now, here she was, crying like a child in her apartment. For the first time in a long time, she felt completely and utterly alone


	2. Distance

Time came and went. With that time, the pain lessened. Jemilla no longer felt like her entire world had stopped, but it didn't necessarily feel whole again either. She missed Claire, and missed her more deeply than she had imagined.

Since the day Claire left her, she had changed her social media to reflect her new relationship status. Despite her attempts to make the transitions subtle as possible, it hadn't taken long for her friends to realize something was amiss.

The first friend to reach out had been Emberly, and Grunt as an extension of herself. It started as a concerned conversation. A friend who had noticed that Jemilla was in the middle of a fairly large life change, considering the fact that she had been so entirely convinced that Claire was the one. It ended with both women feeling awkward about Jemilla's insistence that she was okay, when both of them knew that she was not.

Still, life carried on. She went to, she spent time alone. This, she reflected, was probably the most amount of time she had spent alone since she and Claire had started dating.

She didn't like it. Not one bit.

* * *

_:...Flashback...:_

_There was a gentle knock at the door. Jemilla had known it was coming, but it didn't stop her stomach from dropping when she opened the door to let Claire in._

_"I'm sorry, I won't take very long," the blonde spoke, barely meeting Jemilla's eye._

_"Take your time." It was mumbled, and she hadn't truly meant it. She wanted Claire to either change her mind and stay, or get out of the apartment so she wouldn't need to be reminded of what she had lost. Seeing her here for longer than necessary when she knew she would be gone for good was downright painful._

_Jemilla walked to the couch and sat, listening to the sounds of Claire's rustling down the hall. When she came back out twenty minutes later, she was ladden with bags that were stuffed to the point of bursting._

_"I hope you don't mind if I leave some furniture here," Claire said. "I plan to take my bookshelf-" she gestured to the back corner of the room with a lazy kick of her foot "-today, but I need to come back with Clark a different day to get some of the heavier stuff."_

_The brunette pulled her lips into a thin line. They both stayed like this for longer than they had anticipated._

_"Milla, I'm so sorry for hurting you." She set her bags down and moved to sit next to her ex. "Just, I want both of us to be happy, and we can't be happy together. You'll see."_

_Her hand extended, gently brushing Jemilla's cheek, but Jemilla pulled away at the first bit of conact, and was now faced the complete opposite direction._

_Taking that as a cue, Claire stood with a curt nod. "I understand you don't want to talk to me."_

_She gathered her bags again and walked to the door, somehow managing to pull it open with the singular finger she had available._

_"I'll be back, and then you never have to see me again if you don't want to." The door was propped open with her foot, ready to go. But still, she lingered. "I still care for you very deeply. If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me."_

_Jemilla listened as the door slammed shut, leaving her alone with an empty feeling in her chest._

_:...End Flashback...:_

* * *

Jemilla parked her car and sat in her car for a moment. She looked out at the house across the street. The address on the front matched the one Emberly had sent her. The couple had just moved out of their apartment and into a house on the other side of town, and had invited their entire friend circle over for a housewarming party.

This would be the first time in three weeks that she had actually seen her friends since the breakup. Of course, there had been sporadic texts, but those had nearly stopped coming once they realized that the thing she most needed right now was space. She did have to say, however, hearing about this party had left her enthusiastic. Finally, there was something to do that wasn't work or sitting alone watching movies.

In order to be sure this was the house, she waited a few more minutes until someone--Ducker--pulled up and began walking to the house. She followed behind him, arriving at the door just as Emberly answered.

The both slipped inside, the three of them saying their hellos. Ducker continued on, going to say hello to their other friends, but Emberly stopped Jemilla from walking away by gently pressing a hand to her bicep.

"Are you doing okay?" Behind her massive glasses she could see the inklings of her barely veiled concerned etched into her features.

"Yeah, I'm hanging in there." It wasn't a whole lie, just a part of one. Jemilla really was doing her best to live her life and continue on without Claire. She was a functioning person who was able to sustain herself, but on an emotional level she didn't feel fulfilled. She was tired, and she was sure it was showing, but she had hoped that her makeup was able to cover the purple bags under her eyes.

"Are you sure?" Emberly stared up at her. It became obvious she was not going to let her friend off the hook so easily. "You know if you need someone to talk to I'm always here."

"I'm sure." She looked down to Emberly, doing her best to reassure her. "If I need to talk to someone, I'll let you know."

Emberly seemed to accept this answer, but made Jemilla promise her that she would.

"I promise." She wasn't entirely sure that she would, but she needed Emberly to think she would. They separated and Jemilla was finally able to admire the interior of the house. There had been a set of stairs heading to a second floor not too far from the front door. This staircase was surrounded by a fairly open floor plan. The small hallways she was in led her straight into the kitchen where there were various snack foods resting on the counter-tops.

She greeted a few more of her friends who were standing around in the kitchen before making her way to the veggie platter that was resting on the kitchen counter. With a plate of raw veggies and dip in hand, she walked through an archway into the living room and sat down on the vacant couch.

With a frown, she looked among her friends who were interacting with one another and ignored the occasional unsure look that was shot her direction.

One such look that caught her attention was Schwoopsie. Jemilla couldn't help but stare at her for longer than she should have. Upon closer inspection, Schwoopsie looked an awful lot like Claire...

Jemilla rubbed her eyes and looked over the woman again. No, she had to have been imagining it.

She was losing it.

She popped a few cherry tomatoes into her mouth, releasing the juices with a satisfying crunch.

Okay. New plan. She was going sit and exist within this space until an appropriate amount of time had passed and she could leave, hopefully without having to endure any further awkward conversations. 

Well, that was the plan. That changed when she looked out the front window to see Zazzalil making her way across the yard and toward the door.

Now the plan involved the caveat that if Zazzalil, at any point, tried to talk to her she was leaving.

She watched intently as the brunette walked into the house and gave Emberly a hug. Hopefully she wouldn't try and approach her. That was the absolute last thing Jemilla wanted.

That's why she was relieved when Chorn took a seat next to her on the couch, effectively blocking Zazzalil from the potential of sitting there at all. Chorn nodded at her in acknowledgement, and then sat and did what Chorn does... whatever that was. Maybe if she just sat here for the rest of her time here, she wouldn't have to interact with anyone.

That went on for at least ten or fifteen minutes with no issues until Jemilla realized that she had to use the bathroom. With a sigh, she contemplated if it was too urgent to wait. It was.

With an inward groan, she stood up and walked to Emberly, asked for directions to the bathroom, and managed to find her way around the corner to a door she had walked past on her way into the house.

Being in the bathroom provided the woman much needed quiet. She could hear some muffled conversation through the walls, but it was still nice to know she was out of everyone's line of sight. She perhaps stayed in there for a few moments longer than necessary, and found herself stepping out before she felt emotionally prepared.

Almost as if sensing her vulnerability, Zazzalil walked up to her almost as soon as she stepped back into the hallway.

"Hey, are you doing okay?"

Jemilla sucked her lips into her mouth and bit them. She looked over Zazzalil's head, to Emberly who was standing in the kitchen. The two made eye contact which gave Jemilla the opportunity to apologize with her eyes.

The lanky woman less-than-gracefully pivoted on her heels and walked toward the front door, ignoring Zazzalil's protests. She headed to her car as quickly as she could without actually running.

Zazzalil apparently had other plans.

The woman sprinted around Jemilla's side and put her hands up to prevent her from going any further.

"Hey, what the hell is wrong with you?" This question infuriated Jemilla more than it should have.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she denied, looking desperately to her car. She had been so close.

"Everyone's worried about you. You haven't been acting like yourself," Zazzalil stated. Now Jemilla was getting downright irritated. She knew there was no way she could possibly know that she was the cause of this. The very person who had indirectly caused her heartbreak was confronting her, and that left Jemilla feeling something of a wreck.

"What do you care?" Jemilla countered. "We hate each other."

"Well, excuse the fuck out of me for making sure you're doing okay." She was gesturing emphatically, likely using her body language as a way of driving her point home.

What did Claire think she saw in this woman? She was aggressive, assertive, disorganized, not to mention a massive pain in the ass...

"Oh, shut the fuck up! This is all your fault!" Jemilla finally snapped, clenching and unclenching her fists at her sides. Zazzalil look thoroughly confused, eyes narrowing as she looked to the taller woman.

"What the fuck? What do you mean this is my fault?"

"She left because of you, and I'm not getting her back." This was spoken with much less fire. She spun around, harshly rubbing her forehead with her thumb and pointer finger. She was getting a headache and couldn't even stand to look at her right now.

"You're not making any sense." Zazzalil refused to move from where she stood, still staring up at her.

"Don't fucking worry about it." Jemilla stormed passed Zazzalil, beelining to her car so that she could get home and go to bed.

Zazzalil watched as she trudged off. She watched as she slipped into her car. And still she watched as she drove down the road and out of sight.

It wasn't until she was no longer within her line of sight that Zazzalil went back inside

"What was that about?" Keeri asked her, glancing out the window again to make sure Jemilla had actually left.

"I dunno," Zazzalil said with a shrug. "Come on, let's just forget about her." She let Keeri lead her into the kitchen, hoping to mingle and forget about Jemilla accusatory comments.

With all of her friends also asking follow up questions, she found herself entirely unable to forget.


	3. A Chance

Zazzalil pulled up outside of Keeri's apartment building. After the party at Emberly and Grunt's, they had decided that a movie night was in order. Based on Keeri's body language when they decided on this, Zazzalil knew that she had wanted to ask about what had happened earlier at Emberly's.

"Let's get this awkward conversation over with," she muttered to herself as she started towards the building. Every time she was here, she found herself surprised all over again with the information the insides and outsides of the buildings did not match. From the parking lot and the streets, these looked like fairly nice buildings. Nothing spectacular, but clean and put together. The second you go went inside, however, was a different story. The carpets were stained and looked like they hadn't been properly cleaned in years. Lights constantly flickered--she had personally seen these lights changed and that hadn't stopped them from threatening visitors with seizures.

Her feet pounded up the single flight of stairs to the second floor apartments. Keeri's was the second on the left. By this point in their friendship, Zazzalil didn't see a need to knock and let herself in with the spare key that Keeri had provided her years ago.

"Hey, Zazz!" The blonde was standing in her tiny kitchen, peering over the half-wall at her friend.

Zazzalil merely waved back, and plopped down on the couch to her right. The TV was already on and playing some series she couldn't remember the name of.

"Do you want a snack?" Keeri called to her from the kitchen as she heard the kitchen faucet shut off. "I'm making taquitos."

"Sure." The two practically lived off of the things, so of course she had decided to make them knowing that Zazzalil was coming over.

She heard some clanging and thumping followed by the oven door swinging shut. Not more than a minute later Keeri joined her on the couch, watching the TV with evident disinterest while the taquitos cooked.

"So are we going to talk about what happened at Emberly's, or...?" 

Zazzalil sighed, she had known it was coming. She wasn't quite sure what to say. The altercation had ended before it truly had the chance to begin and, while parts of their conversation kept replaying in her mind, she didn't really know what to think about it.

"She blamed me for something." This was the piece of information she felt was most relevant; Jemilla's feelings toward and about her. "I don't know what exactly she was referring to, but still."

Keeri nodded and sat in thought, looking back to the TV as she thought. "Maybe she blames you for her and Claire breaking up?"

Zazzalil sputtered as she tried to think of something to say. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm serious, just think about it." She turned to look to Zazzalil again. "They broke up after the two of you spent an entire friends' dinner arguing. Maybe you did have something to do with it."

Zazzalil hummed and sat back in thought. They both fixed their gazes on the TV, but Zazzalil wasn't actually watching. She sat, contemplating the possibility of what Keeri had said. What could she have possibly done that would break up a whole ass relationship? Especially since Jemilla and Claire had seemed to be doing so well. What weight could Zazzalil possibly have that would cause Claire to think their relationship was so beyond saving that it was better to just up and leave?

"I just can't believe she thinks so little of me." That sentence both sufficiently put the issue it into words, and completely left out how absolutely heartbroken it made Zazzalil feel. "I mean, I've done nothing to her."

Keeri looked down on her friend with empathy, not quite sure what to say. Fortunately she was saved by a timer going off in the kitchen.

"The taquitos are done," she said as she stood to go get the food. Within a couple of minutes she returned with two plates of taquitos and a bottle of hot sauce.

Zazzalil took her plate and the bottle of hot sauce, and began to chow down.

They continued to watch the TV show in silence, but Zazzalil couldn't quite get into it. This was clearly the middle of the show meaning she had missed the entire beginning. This continued on for a few episodes, both girls simply enjoying the other's company.

"You know," Kerri began out of nowhere, getting Zazzalil's attention. "Emberly was telling me that Jemilla can't afford rent without a roommate. Isn't your lease up soon?"

Zazzalil who scoffed in response, knowing full well what the blonde was implying. "As if she'd want to live with me."

"Well, what other option does she have?" Zazzalil began playing with her hair between her fingers. "Sleep on the streets?"

"I'm sure she'd prefer that." 

"The least you can do is try." Keeri shrugged, then wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Besides, this could be your chance."

Zazzalil sputtered. "What are you talking about?" She had tried to sound confident, but her voice came out pitchy and unsure.

"Come on, Zazz. I know you better than that."

The brunette shrugged. It was true. She had been suppressing feelings for the brunette for quite some time now. It had started as nothing more than a physical attraction, but after getting to know her a bit more, she couldn't help but fall further for her. When it became evident that Jemilla was going to openly criticize everything that she did, she gave up on anything ever coming out of it. Unfortunately, feelings don't just go away overnight.

"Just ask her. I'm sure it'll go better than you think."

A beat, and sigh, and then Zazzalil spoke. "Yeah, alright."

"It's getting late," Keeri stated. She was right, Zazzalil realized when she looked to the clock on the wall. It was nearly two in the morning. "Come on, let's go to bed."

Zazzalil wasn't going to argue. She was tired.

She changed into her pajamas and laid down. Within a matter of minutes, she was fast asleep.

* * *

Zazzalil hadn't wanted to show up at Jemilla's apartment unannounced, but she knew that was the only chance she had at having an actual conversation. After speaking with Keeri last night, she had decided that this was something that needed to happen. She needed to talk to Jemilla, if not to become friends, then to hopefully get over the feelings she had for the woman.

She breathed in, shaky. Nervous. Her fist hovered in front of the door, hesitant to knock. Before she could register what she was doing, her knuckles gently rasped against the door.

No going back now.

There were some sounds of shuffling behind the door, followed by the sound of the lock clicking, and the door opening.

"I don't feel like talking right now, Zazzalil," Jemilla said, leaning against the doorframe in the open doorway.

"Well, I really think we need to," the small brunette responded. She had a list of sarcastic retorts on her mental backburner, but for the sake of staying civil she decided against them.

Jemilla moved to close the door, but Zazzalil reached forward and propped it open. "I'm not leaving until we talk." In order to get anywhere, she knew she'd have to be at least somewhat assertive and pray that it didn't do more harm than good.

They stood, essentially locked in a staring contest for what felt like hours. The shorter woman tried to keep her gaze locked on Jemilla's, but couldn't resist using their close proximity to study her features. Her round cheeks looked more round than usually, likely due to her pout. She watched the sides of jaw clench and unclench, and saw the disdain in her eyes.

"You're serious, then?"

Wordlessly, Zazzalil nodded. More than anything, she wanted to talk to Jemilla.

A few more moments, then a sigh, and before she knew it the two of them were seated on opposite ends of the couch. They were both equally tense, clearly uncomfortable with the current situation.

Maybe this had been a mistake, Zazzalil couldn't help but wonder.

"You said you wanted to talk, so start talking."

This startled Zazzalil. She had almost forgotten why she was here.

"What did you mean when you said that it's my fault?" She stared at Jemilla, who averted her gaze down to the pillow that rested in her lap, her fingers fumbling with a stray string that was hanging off the side.

"Don't worry about it." Defensive. Jemilla was naturally a defensive person but, aside from earlier, this was perhaps the worst Zazzalil had seen from her. That was clearly not something she wanted to talk about.

"Why not? What did I do wrong? Is this about the dinner party a few weeks ago?" She wanted answers.

"I said don't worry about it." Jemilla shot a glare in her direction. "If that's all you're here for, then I think you'd better leave."

This was clearly going nowhere. She could find out later. For now, she needed to change the subject and quick.

"I heard you're looking for a roommate." Not the most graceful of topic changes, but it got the job done.

"Yeah, kind of." Her body language shifted from defensive to anxious as she began fidgeting in place.

"My lease is up at the end of this month."

Jemilla squinted her eyes, then they widened with realization. "You're not moving in here, Zazzalil."

"Well, from what it sounds like it's either let me move in, or be evicted." Jemilla was certain that Zazzalil hadn't meant that to sound harsh. For once in her life, she seemed to be thinking logically. Just because it was logical didn't mean that she had to like it.

"I'm starting to seriously consider eviction as an option."

Zazzalil groaned dramatically throwing her hands up to grab at her hair. "I am trying to _fucking_ help you!" She dropped her hands back down and gestured to herself. "What did I ever do to you that made you hate me so much that you would rather live on the streets?"

She stared. She could practically see the gears turning in Jemilla's head. Desperately she wondered what could be going on in there. Was she replaying every time Zazzalil had ever crossed her? Was she pondering the validity of her words? Perhaps she was thinking about what it would be like to live on the streets?

"Fine. I suppose I can clear out the second bedroom and you can stay there." She caught herself and had to amend her statement with a quickly spat out: "but only because I have no other options."

Zazzalil couldn't help but smile, though she was sure it came across as more cocky than the actual relief that she felt. "Great, I'll start getting my stuff together this week." 

The curly-haired woman nodded and moved to see Zazzalil out of the apartment.

"Oh, and Zazzalil? Don't think this means we're friends."

"I wouldn't dream of it."


	4. Return

As promised, Zazzalil starting the moving process the following week, and before she knew it, the day before she had anticipated being entirely moved in eventually rolled around. The vast majority of her smaller belongings were already in Jemilla's apartment, but the bigger items would be coming in tomorrow. For now, she was focused on getting everything that would fit in her car here. It started with some smaller furniture and clothes that she rarely wore; things that she wouldn't need for the rest of the week during the moving process. There were some appliances and furniture that she was able to sell online for some extra pocket change. As an added bonus getting rid of some things helped a bit to cut back on the workload, but it had been a somewhat long process regardless.

At the beginning of that week, with every sign of regret that she had expected, the woman got her a spare key from Jemilla with some accompanying empty threats about losing it. Zazzalil knew that they held no real weight, but she still didn't want to cross the woman regardless. As soon as the key was in her possession, it was put on her keyring to avoid misplacing it. Losing it was a very real concern for her, and she needed to prove that she could be reliable if she wanted any of this to work.

She fought the very overwhelming need to knock when entering the apartment on the daily. It felt wrong to do so, but she hoped that as time went on she would get more used to the idea of the apartment also being hers. Just as it felt wrong to sit alone in the apartment, as she was doing at current.

During one of her trips from bringing stuff over from her own apartment she decided it was time for a lunch break. She made herself a sandwich and sat on the couch, enjoying the break. 

As per usual, Jemilla was avoiding her by sitting in her own room doing God knows what. Not that Zazzalil needed her to socialize with her every waking minute.

She lifted her sandwich to her face and moved to take a bite, but stopped short because of a knock at the door. It surprised her, but nonetheless she stood and answered it. Standing in the hallway was a shocked Claire, with a tall man by her side. She thought she recognized him as Clark from some friends' gatherings, but she couldn't be certain.

"Hello, Zazzalil," the woman greeted curtly, but the brunette sense something hidden behind her sickly sweet tone. It was so subtle that she thought she had imagined it.

"Uhh, hi," she said as she turned to look down the hallway. The sound of Claire had drawn Jemilla from her hiding place, and she was now standing next to the doorway as well, ushering Zazzalil to go sit down.

She listened as the pair spoke about their arrangement for the duo to come and grab the remainder of Claire's furniture to make room for what little things Zazzalil had left to move over.

"You didn't tell me she was moving in." That had been Claire, and she sounded much colder than she had when Zazzalil had answered the door. So she hadn't imagined the bite in her tone. Good to know. She heard a few more mumbled sentences, but nothing that she could make out.

"If we're going to talk about this, can we at least do it in private?"

Zazzalil figured Claire had agreed because Jemilla let the pair into the apartment and left Clark in the living room with her while she and her ex walked down the hallway and into her bedroom. She heard the door slam harder than it should have as she took another large bite of her sandwich.

What had that been about?

Clark was pacing awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking around the apartment. He was doing a less-than-alright job of hiding the fact that he was trying not to look at Zazzalil. After Claire's comments, she was sure he would feel awkward about talking to her. That was fine. It wasn't like she cared about what he thought.

Upon finishing her sandwich, she got up and walked down the hall to the bathroom. 

"But I don't!" That had been Jemilla. Clearly she was worked up about something.

"But you do! You do, Jemilla," she heard Claire say back to her. Her voice sounded pleading, like she desperately needed Jemilla to just agree with her.

"I thought you said you wanted to see me happy, so why are you angry?" 

"I'm not." Whatever they were arguing about, it seemed like a rough subject.

She glanced over her shoulder and caught Clark staring at her with a cocked eyebrow. Great, he was probably going to tell Claire she was eavesdropping. She hadn't intended to stand there and listen, it just happened that way. From Clark's perspective, she was sure it looked as though she had.

With a sigh, she stepped into the bathroom and shut the door. Despite the bathroom and Jemilla's bedroom sharing a wall, whatever they were talking about became muffled and difficult to hear. She wasn't sure that she wanted to listen in anymore, but another part of her had a deep seeded need to know what they were arguing about.

When she was done using the restroom she stepped back into the hallway, eager to get back to moving her stuff in so that she could be lazy for the rest of the night.

"Claire, I am not in love with Zazzalil, so could you stop saying that I am?"

Zazzalil stopped in her tracks. The brunette likely hadn't meant to say that as loudly as she had, but Zazzalil heard it regardless. She glanced to Clark, who was standing with his lips pursed. Evidently, it been loud enough for him to hear as well.

At this point, the bedroom door opened to reveal Claire. Jemilla was standing behind her, trying to regain her composure. However, it quickly crumbled and her face flushed a bright crimson when she saw that Zazzalil had been standing on the other side of the door.

"Uh, sorry, I'll just…" Zazzalil trailed off and shuffled away. An awkward silence chased her through the front door, down the hallway, out of the building, and all the way to her car. The last few things she had to bring in at this moment before driving back to her own apartment were sitting in her trunk, but she had room in her back seat to make another trip without actually going back inside. She opted for this route.

Her car started up with some level of difficulty, and she made her way out of the parking lot and onto the road, starting her fifteen minute drive across town.

Normally she would have started some music, but she didn't feel like listening to music. Instead, she took the alone time to walk herself through what she had heard.

So she had been the reason Claire had left. She found it an impossible thought that Jemilla would have feelings for Zazzalil, but she must have had good reason to believe that if she had been convinced enough to leave Jemilla.

Zazzalil and Jemilla didn't get along. They acted as if they absolutely hated each other. Appeared disgusted in each others' presence. Always seemed eager to end whatever interaction they were in the middle of.

The blonde apparently thought differently. Somehow, their blatant hatred for each other had been misconstrued. Zazzalil knew that she herself had feelings for the tall brunette, but Jemilla had never expressed an interest in anything about her. Not her looks, not her attitude, not her personality. Certainly not herself as whole.

She felt her jaw clench. Why was she so hurt?

She contemplated her feelings for the rest of her short drive, and as she loaded her car.

Maybe this roommate thing was not going to work out the way she hoped it would. 

* * *

It was quite a bit later in the day when Zazzalil went back to the apartment, carrying with her a backpack and a full laundry basket of her belongings. When she opened the door, she did so with a false confidence of someone who was not absolutely terrified of the idea of running into her roommate. She lifted the laundry basket again and used her foot and hip to prop the door open.

Upon scanning the room, she noticed that Jemilla wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"Thank fuck," she breathed as she beelined to her room and set her belongings down near the closet.

"Hey," she heard a voice behind her that caused her to jump. A familiar brunette was standing in her doorway, awkwardly rubbing her arm with her opposite hand.

"Uh, hey."

Awkward silence.

Zazzalil felt like she was unable to do anything but stand there. Was Jemilla going to yell at her? She didn't seem mad so that didn't seem highly likely, which was a welcomed change. The two fidgeted while they stood, waiting for the other to say something. Finally, thankfully, Jemilla spoke.

"So, you were listening earlier?"

"Not on purpose." That was the truth, and she wanted to make sure that Jemilla knew that. "I was coming out of the bathroom, and, well…"

Jemilla hummed, nodding. She was kneading her hands together. There was no indication that she actually did believe her, but she was afraid to bring it up.

"I just, um," Jemilla said, looking like she'd rather be anywhere else on the planet right now, "I don't… I'm not… in love with you."

Zazzalil pursed her lips and nodded. "Okay."

"I just don't want you to think that I-"

"I get it. You don't have to rub it in." Zazzalil walked toward Jemilla and looked up at her, eyes burning with bottled up fury. "I'm sure loving me would be such a horrible experience anyway. I'd hate to see you go through that." She all but shoved past Jemilla and walked out to her car. She didn't look back at her as she walked outside.

Just as she had earlier today, she sat down in her car. This time, all she did was sit down and turn on some music.

Of course Jemilla didn't like her. That wasn't new information, so why did she feel like she had just been stabbed in the back?

She plugged her phone into the AUX cord and used the music to drown out her thoughts. She could move her stuff up once she was certain Jemilla had given up and gone to her room. For now, it was jam time.


	5. Perspective

Nearly an entire week of Zazzalil slowly moving her belongings into her apartment in the evenings after work had flown by. Today was Saturday and it was her intention to be done moving in by the end of the weekend. By the end of the day Sunday, she would be completely situated in her new room and they would be ready for the smaller woman to take Claire's place on the lease.

The more Jemilla thought about the implications of Zazzalil moving in, the more worried she was becoming about the whole arrangement. Had it not been for the desperate situation, she would never have even allowed Zazzalil into the apartment to have the conversation that started all of this. Maybe it was a good thing?

She had to admit that the more Zazzalil was around, the more bearable she was to be around. Not that they were around each other much. However, the little time they did spend together wasn't completely filled with arguments. Progress was being made, and seemed that it was going to continue being made.

One thing she hadn't been expecting was the amount of space that Zazzalil was giving her. It wasn't clear if it was done out of respect, or a fear of crossing her. Either way, it was appreciated more than she felt comfortable vocalizing.

In fact, she had thought about sitting in the living room and visiting with her new roommate, but chose not to for fear of disrupting their newfound harmony. Instead, she was sitting at her desk getting something done for work on Monday.

She was in the middle of a thought when she heard a knock on the door. Who could that be? She heard Zazzalil open the front door for whomever it was.

"I'm not expecting any company," she thought aloud.

"Hello, Zazzalil."

Fuck. She'd know that voice anywhere.

How had she forgotten Claire was coming over to grab her furniture? Not only had she forgotten, but by the sounds of it she was not happy that Zazzalil was here. She wasn't sure that Zazzalil would pick up on it, but from years of knowing Claire she could hear the hint of underlying animosity in her voice. With a newfound sense of urgency, she hopped up and quickly walked out of her room, hoping to defuse the situation.

"Uhh, hi," Zazzalil said in response, looking down the hallway to see Jemilla walk up. She looked positively grateful that she did not have to continue this conversation, and was more than happy to go sit down when Jemilla motioned for her to do so.

"You didn't tell me she was moving in." Claire sounded irritated, and the scowl on her face reflected that. 

"Well, since you left I didn't really have a choice." She could be just as rude if she needed to. She looked up to Clark, who smiled awkwardly at her. It was evident to Jemilla that he had no interest in standing here to listen to them argue.

"I just didn't think you'd run into the arms of another woman so quickly." Thankfully she'd said it quietly enough that Jemilla was sure Zazzalil hadn't heard it. Where were these aggressive comments coming from? Claire had seemed to be civil and kind when she left. This one-eighty was giving Jemilla whiplash.

"If we're going to talk about this, can we at least do it in private?" 

Claire sighed and nodded. The brunette stood off to the side slightly, allowing the two to enter the apartment before leading Claire down the hallway with her. Hopefully Clark wouldn't be too uncomfortable in the living room with Zazzalil.

She shut the bedroom door with a click, then turned to Claire.

"What's your problem?" Her hands were on her hips, prepared for a full on argument that they hadn't had yet. Jemilla had figured it was inevitable, and now that it was happening, she was steaming.

"Why is she here?" The woman mirrored Jemilla's body language which only made her comment more confrontational.

"Since you left, I can't afford rent. It was either she moves in or I live on the streets."

"Okay, but really? Zazzalil?" She gestured in the general direction of where Zazzalil had been sitting. "Zazzalil?"

"What about her?" She moved to cross her arms, entirely prepared to stand up for the smaller woman. She wasn't sure where the need to defend her was coming from, but she assumed it came more from a place of defending her own decisions than defending Zazzalil's character.

"I left you to make sure you could be happy, and last I checked she doesn't actually make you happy."

"Clearly your concern wasn't with my happiness. Maybe you're just jealous and you're hiding behind you 'selfless' reasons." She put air-quotes around the word "selfless". Now that they were laying everything out on the table, she could see that there had been some ulterior motives when they had broken up.

"I am not selfish. All I wanted was for you to admit that you love her."

"But I don't!" Jemilla insisted.

"But you do! You do, Jemilla," Claire argued back.

"I thought you said you wanted to see me happy, so why are you angry about her being here?" 

"I'm not." She paused, reaching for Jemilla's hands, but then let them fall awkwardly to her sides when the woman jerked away from her. "I'm just… this isn't easy on me either, and I think it wouldn't hurt so much if you were just honest."

"Oh, so now I'm a liar?"

"I never said you're a liar," Claire said, "stop putting words in my mouth."

Putting words in her mouth? Yeah right. Jemilla had known what she meant. Still, she decided to challenge her. "Tell me what you meant then."

"Why can't you just admit that you love her?" Claire's strategy was diversion--she knew what she wanted to know and wouldn't give it up until she had an answer.

"Claire, I am not in love with Zazzalil, so could you stop saying that I am?"

The two stared at each other. This was probably the angriest she had ever let her ex see her. Shit, this was probably the angriest she'd ever been at the woman in question.

"I'll just get my stuff and leave," Claire spoke, just above a whisper.

Jemilla pressed her fingers into her forehead. God, could this day get any worse?

She turned to follow Claire out of the room and stopped dead in her tracks. She caught a glimpse of Zazzalil who was standing just outside the door, looking a bit like a deer stuck in headlights. The smaller woman looked at Claire, then looked to Jemilla.

No one said anything for awhile, they all just stared, unmoving. Jemilla was sure that her face was as red as it felt.

"Uh, sorry, I'll just…" Zazzalil trailed off and walked back down the hallway, past Clark, and out the door.

Great, Jemilla thought to herself. She was finally starting to get along with Zazzalil, and now this happened.

"Thanks a ton, Claire." Anger. Frustration. God, for the first time since they had met she just wanted Claire to go away.

Claire seemed, for what Jemilla assumed to be the first time in her life, unsure of what to say.

"Just get your stuff and leave." She had surprised herself that she was able to turn on Claire in the course of one conversation. The woman had just brought out the worst of her; a stark contrast from all of the times she had inspired her to be a better person while they were dating.

With a nod, Claire walked back to Clark and the two of them began moving their furniture out of the apartment. When she left, she didn't even say goodbye.

Suddenly, Jemilla wasn't so sad that she had left her.

* * *

It had been a couple of hours since Claire left, and Jemilla was starting to worry that Zazzalil wasn't coming back. She knew this wasn't the case, but she couldn't help the worry that she felt.

As if on cue, she heard the front door open, and then she heard Zazzalil struggling down the hallway toward her own room.

She took this opportunity to stand from her bed and go stand in the doorway. Zazzalil didn't turn around right away, so Jemilla cleared her throat and let out a nonchalant "hey".

Zazzalil turned with a start. "Uh, hey."

Jemilla wanted to know what was going through Zazzalil's mind. Based on her reaction before she left, it couldn't have been anything good. This thought process was a surprise to Jemilla. She didn't like Zazzalil, right? So why did she care?

"So, you were listening earlier?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"Not on purpose. I was coming out of the bathroom, and, well…" Jemilla hummed, nodding. She wasn't sure why, but she believed her. In her opinion, she had no reason not to. They had been getting along recently, and she felt that the two were in a good place. She wrung her hands together in front of her, worried to say what she felt she needed to.

"I just, um, I don't… I'm not… in love with you." It took more effort than it should have to get the sentence out, and she regretted it the second she saw the look on Zazzalil's face. 

Her expression was one of distaste, and she looked unsure of what to say. A mere "okay" was all she got out of the woman. She felt the need to clarify.

"I just don't want you to think that I-" Zazzalil cut her off, stopping her from talking in circles like she knew she would end up doing.

"I get it. You don't have to rub it in." She looked down at the woman as she walked past her, eyes burning with an anger. There was no telling where exactly it had come from. "I'm sure loving me would be such a horrible experience anyway. I'd hate to see you go through that." Jemilla felt Zazzalil's shoulder gently brush past her arm as the woman walked from the room and went outside, presumably to get more of her stuff.

Her mouth twisted as she stared after her. They had been doing so well. She felt like she just undid all of the progress they had made over the course of the past week in a matter of hours because she couldn't just keep her mouth shut. She stayed in the hallway for a few minutes before she decided that Zazzalil wasn't coming back. At least not tonight.

To her room she went. She needed sleep.


End file.
